And Then There Were None.
Character: The Master.
Word Count: 713.
Rating: Not sure, let's go with PG-13?
Prompt: Manipulation.
Notes: :D
Earlier that morning, there were four: breathing.
It was five in the evening, now, and only one remained breathing. One, single person- male, to be precise. One, single male with a tie and a suit. The Master found this very official- very cliché. But then again, he found most antics brought up by Torchwood employees to be exactly that: So, why should Captain Jack's Torchwood be any different?
His own sleeves met his elbows now, and his jet black tie was loose about his neck. The Master watched the boy in shackles before him. He had been crying, and remains of sticky tears frosted his cheeks. This time around, he had stopped, and instead was at a point in time where lying still in his restraints was the only solution to his release. Though, instead of doing so, The Master lifted his own chin, pursing his lips as he thought. To the boy's left was a Japanese woman, to his right was a brunette female, and to hers was a man with nothing extraordinary to define him- all had been deceased. The boy seemed to note his gaze and glanced up weakly, breathing in heavily.
The Master lifted his right hand. His thumb and forefinger had been holding onto a round, silvery object with a yellow tip, while the rest of his fingers wiggled in a wave. "It's just me and you now, Mister Jones. Exciting, isn't it?" He asked, tilting his head to look into Ianto's falling eyes. "Excuse me- yes, hi there!" The Master moved forward and gripped his cheeks between his fingers, smacking the back of the boy's head against the wall behind him. "I asked you a question, and as I am your...Captain now, I would highly suggest I receive some sort of answer. Now, shall I repeat the question?" The boy remained silent, his bloody lip curled in a sneer. The Master frowned, moving his head deeper into the dent he'd made previously with his skull. "The correct answer to that would be 'No, sir.' God, I could have sworn you were the intelligent one. That is what Jack told me, after all," at the sound of his voice, Ianto growled.
"Don't you dare...talk about him."
"Oh, Mister Jones, I dare!" The Master let go of the boy's face and let it bob on his neck. "D'you want to know what else he said? Huh? Do ya-do ya?" Ianto looked down again, and The Master instantly took this as a yes. "Then, pull up a chair, my dear little tea boy, because this one's a doozy!" He took a few steps back and folded his arms, tapping the laser screwdriver against his cheek. "Your devoted leader and I have spent, what? Six months together? And over these past few months- wait, are you ready for this?" He made his way, ever so slowly, to Gwen's corpse, and crouched down. His free finger brushed over her cheek, and he heard Ianto rustle his chains. "She was all he could talk about," The Master looked at Ianto over his shoulder and smiled, from ear to ear. "
"Shut up-"
"No, YOU shut up, Mister Jones," he hissed, jumping up suddenly. The laser screw driver moved directly over to Gwen's corpse, and within seconds her figure disintegrated. "Ohhh," he whispered, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Now, look what you've made me do. Poor. Gwen," the Time Lord gasped sharply, "I wonder what dear old Jack'll say when I tell him."
"What is it-" he breathed in deeply, trying his hardest not to damage his already broken ribs, "what is it you plan tellin' him, then?" his voice had increased in volume.
The Master stood in contemplation, Ianto's breathing left to take the floor and break the silence. The Time Lord edged in front of Ianto, laser screwdriver finding its way against the middle of his torso. His lips were inches away from the boy's ear as he whispered his final threat. Ianto's screams echoed along the lower deck of The Valiant, and The Master left the tea boy to bleed: the large hole in his stomach finally resolving his breathing problems.
His beloved tea boy died cursing his very name..
Later that evening, there were four: cold.
Word Count: 713.
Rating: Not sure, let's go with PG-13?
Prompt: Manipulation.
Notes: :D
Earlier that morning, there were four: breathing.
It was five in the evening, now, and only one remained breathing. One, single person- male, to be precise. One, single male with a tie and a suit. The Master found this very official- very cliché. But then again, he found most antics brought up by Torchwood employees to be exactly that: So, why should Captain Jack's Torchwood be any different?
His own sleeves met his elbows now, and his jet black tie was loose about his neck. The Master watched the boy in shackles before him. He had been crying, and remains of sticky tears frosted his cheeks. This time around, he had stopped, and instead was at a point in time where lying still in his restraints was the only solution to his release. Though, instead of doing so, The Master lifted his own chin, pursing his lips as he thought. To the boy's left was a Japanese woman, to his right was a brunette female, and to hers was a man with nothing extraordinary to define him- all had been deceased. The boy seemed to note his gaze and glanced up weakly, breathing in heavily.
The Master lifted his right hand. His thumb and forefinger had been holding onto a round, silvery object with a yellow tip, while the rest of his fingers wiggled in a wave. "It's just me and you now, Mister Jones. Exciting, isn't it?" He asked, tilting his head to look into Ianto's falling eyes. "Excuse me- yes, hi there!" The Master moved forward and gripped his cheeks between his fingers, smacking the back of the boy's head against the wall behind him. "I asked you a question, and as I am your...Captain now, I would highly suggest I receive some sort of answer. Now, shall I repeat the question?" The boy remained silent, his bloody lip curled in a sneer. The Master frowned, moving his head deeper into the dent he'd made previously with his skull. "The correct answer to that would be 'No, sir.' God, I could have sworn you were the intelligent one. That is what Jack told me, after all," at the sound of his voice, Ianto growled.
"Don't you dare...talk about him."
"Oh, Mister Jones, I dare!" The Master let go of the boy's face and let it bob on his neck. "D'you want to know what else he said? Huh? Do ya-do ya?" Ianto looked down again, and The Master instantly took this as a yes. "Then, pull up a chair, my dear little tea boy, because this one's a doozy!" He took a few steps back and folded his arms, tapping the laser screwdriver against his cheek. "Your devoted leader and I have spent, what? Six months together? And over these past few months- wait, are you ready for this?" He made his way, ever so slowly, to Gwen's corpse, and crouched down. His free finger brushed over her cheek, and he heard Ianto rustle his chains. "She was all he could talk about," The Master looked at Ianto over his shoulder and smiled, from ear to ear. "
"Shut up-"
"No, YOU shut up, Mister Jones," he hissed, jumping up suddenly. The laser screw driver moved directly over to Gwen's corpse, and within seconds her figure disintegrated. "Ohhh," he whispered, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Now, look what you've made me do. Poor. Gwen," the Time Lord gasped sharply, "I wonder what dear old Jack'll say when I tell him."
"What is it-" he breathed in deeply, trying his hardest not to damage his already broken ribs, "what is it you plan tellin' him, then?" his voice had increased in volume.
The Master stood in contemplation, Ianto's breathing left to take the floor and break the silence. The Time Lord edged in front of Ianto, laser screwdriver finding its way against the middle of his torso. His lips were inches away from the boy's ear as he whispered his final threat. Ianto's screams echoed along the lower deck of The Valiant, and The Master left the tea boy to bleed: the large hole in his stomach finally resolving his breathing problems.
His beloved tea boy died cursing his very name..
Later that evening, there were four: cold.